Fritz Fabert

every time
i swallow your name
it goes down my throat
like slow translucent honey

look
the trajectories
it takes inside my body
are all directed towards the heart

then faster
along the veins
through the fingertips
and onto the paper

trying to make it clear :)

I quite agree with you. And the moral of that is: Be what you would seem to be, or if you'd like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.
Alice in Wonderland


yaaaaaaaaawwwwwwn:)

a love poem

Y o U
f
a
l
l
into my eyes
like red
chilli
d u s t.

Sivakami Velliangiri

The Rules of Evidence

What you want to say most
is inadmissible.
Say it anyway.
Say it again.
What they tell you is irrelevant
can’t be denied and will
eventually be heard.
Every question
is a leading question.
Ask it anyway, then expect
what you won’t get.
There is no such thing
as the original
so you’ll have to make do
with a reasonable facsimile.
The history of the world
is hearsay. Hear it.
The whole truth
is unspeakable
and nothing but the truth
is a lie.
I swear this.
My oath is a kiss.
I swear
by everything
incredible.


Lee Robinson

Love is a mix-tape

and most of it is guitar





zhana viel

we

andreas kauppi

It is said there are flowers that bloom only once in a hundred years. Why should there not be some that bloom once in a thousand, in ten thousand years? Perhaps we never knew about them simply because this "once in a thousand years" has come only today?

- Yevgeny Zamyatin, We

http://www.photosight.ru/users/56581/

море

by http://www.photosight.ru/users/95181/

It must just be the colors
And it must just be the kids...

"Toco tu boca, con un dedo toco el borde de tu boca, voy dibujándola como si saliera de mi mano, como se por primera vez tu boca se entreabriera, y me basta cerrar los ojos para deshacerlo todo y reomenzar, hago nacer cada vez la boca que deseo, la boca que mi mano elige y te dibuja en la cara, una boca elegida entre todas, con soberana libertad elegida por mi para dibujarla con mi mano en tu cara, y que por un azar que no busco comprender coincide exactamente con tu boca que sonríe por debajo de la que mi mano te dibuja.
Me miras, de cerca me miras, cada vez más de cerca y entonce jugámos al cíclope, nos miramos cada vez más de cerca y los ojos se agrandan, se acercan entre si, se superponen y los cíclopes se miran, respirando confundidos, las bocas se encuentran e luchan tibiamente, mordiédose con los labios, apoyando apenas la lengua en los dentes, jugando en sus recintos donde un aire pesado va y viene como un perfume viejo y un silencio. Entonces mis manos buscan confundirse en tu pelo, acariciar lentamente la profundidad de tu pelo mientros nos besamos como si tuviéramos la boca llena de flores o de peces, de movimientos vivos, de fragrancia oscura. Y se nos moderdemos el dolor es dulce, y si nos ahogamos en un breve y terrible absorber aimultáneo del aliento, esa instantánea muerte es bella.Y hay una sola saliva y un solo sabor a fruta madura, y yo te siento temblar contra mi como una luna en el agua."


Julio Cortázar Rayuela Capítulo 7

...i prefered to leave the misspellings:)

goodmorning:)

photo by Virginia Gálvez

Szara Reneta

http://plfoto.com/150484/autor.html

:)

i wonder if you were aware
how much
you rock my boat
i wonder if you were aware
how much
you rock my boat
i wonder if you were aware
how much
you rock my boat
you rock my boat

oh i love

photos © Cid Harvey

this drug

photos © Cid Harvey